


Skip to the Practical Part

by scribbledmargins



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M, idiots to lovers, katy/jonesy/reilly past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribbledmargins/pseuds/scribbledmargins
Summary: It's probably just a buds thing (its not a buds thing)





	Skip to the Practical Part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mutagenesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutagenesis/gifts).



> Tis the season for 5 times fics and fluff
> 
> So much fun writing for these soft dumb boys! Thanks for the opportunity to write them and I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Title is from Lake Fever because where else was I gonna get a title then The Tragically Hip?

** I **

 

Jonesy grabs the ice pack out of the freezer and brings it back to the living room where Reilly is trying to play chel even though one of his eyes is too swollen to open from taking a buckets off punch right to the face.

Reilly got to play tonight and if it were anyone else--like fucking Shoresy _fuck--_ Jonesy would be jealous but when Reilly gets a win Jonesy gets a win, because thats just how they work. What’s Reilly’s is Jonesy's and vice-versa. But, like, not in a married way. Just in a buddies way. Not that Reilly would be a bad husband, fuck no, he’d be the best husband and someday when they’re done with all the snipes and the big city slams and the sowing of wild oats and shit he’s gonna make some total dime so fucking happy and thats a goddamn guarantee. Spending too much time thinking about the future when Reilly won’t be around so much and they won’t be out wheeling together makes him feel weird and kind of sad though so Jonesy tries not think about it a lot.

It’s too bad that they can’t both just marry Katy and have done with it, but Katy probably wouldn’t go for it, and Wayne would definitely fuck their shit up for suggesting it, so thats a non starter for sure. 

 

“Gotcha some ice buddy.”

 

“Aw thanks buddy. We keeping the tourney going tonight or what?” 

 

“Uh, yeah. Can’t break our record streak now, ten nights in a row no quitsys, ferda.” 

 

They only get a minute into it before Jonesy notices there’s a problem. Reilly can’t play one handed and hold the ice pack on his eye with the other hand and if he was playing someone else, like a fucking schmelt, Jonesy would be all about using that to his advantage to take his team all the way to the top but. The _tourney_. The _streak_. They can’t mess up the integrity or whatever, not now. 

 

And. Well. It’s Reilly and when Reilly loses they both lose. Not in chel, only one can win in chel, but. In life and stuff. They’re a team on the ice and they’re a team in life. 

 

“Hey. Hey Reilly, buddy, why don’t you put the ice pack on my shoulder here and lean on it on me and then, that way you have both hands.” 

 

“But then your arm will get cold buddy.” 

 

“Oh that’s okay bud, I don’t mind.” 

 

They rearrange and yeah Jonesy’s arm _does_ get a little cold, but it’s totally worth it to help his best bro out. 

 

Jonesy would do just about _anything_ to help his best bro out, and he doesn’t even mind when Reilly falls asleep and drops the controller and they have to pause the epic tourney for another night. He just switches the tv off and snuggles Reilly in even closer and stretches them both out so they’re laying down on the couch and cozy. 

 

Nothing wrong with a little couch nappy before bed. Nothing wrong with a cuddle between friends, nothing wrong with a little tenderness. 

 

He kisses Reilly on the head and thinks about how he’s fucking grade A husband material right now. He tries to picture his future wife in Reilly’s place, all curled up against him and sweet, but he can’t really get a clear picture, not even when he tries picturing Katy there. And anyway it makes him feel the same kind of weird as thinking about Reilly going off with a girl and leaving him so he puts it out of his mind and falls asleep, held down by the comforting weight of Reilly.

 

** II **

 

Katy and Jonesy are still sacked out when Reilly slips out of the bed and stumbles off to the shower. He has to take a minute to appreciate the way the sun is falling across Katy-Kat’s bare back, and Jonesy’s arm where he’s got it wrapped around her waist. 

 

Jonesy’s arms are so fucking choice, probably better than Reilly’s arms even. He should tell him that, that would make him smile probably and making Jonesy smile at him all big and happy is probably Riley’s favorite thing to do. After being a total baller on the ice and smashing box, obviously. 

 

He thinks about last night the whole time he's in the shower. The three of them running hot, firing at all cylinders, safety’s fucking _off_ , boys. He’s got scratches on his chest from Katy’s nails that sting a little bit when the water hits them but like. Worth. It. There’s a tender spot on his shoulder, from where Katy’d made Jonesy hold him down while she rode him, and Reilly pushes his thumb into it, shivers at the memory of Jonesy’s hands, silky mitt fucking _beauties_ ; and the way he’d let go on one side for just a minute to brush Reilly’s hair back off his face when it got stuck to his sweat. Jonesy is a solid fucking bro like that. 

 

Reilly’s dick is starting to get into it now too, so he takes the problem in hand. Nothing wrong with playing a little one hand touch in the shower, ferda. Thinks about Katy-Kat and her nails and her face when she comes, and how they always know it’s for real because Katy doesn’t fake it for anyone, and how she’s mean a lot of the time but so _so_ hot, and how she and Jonesy look together, and how she tastes, and the way Jonesy’s mouth looks when he comes up for air and his lips are swollen and shiny from how wet Katy gets for it, and sometimes Katy will suggest that they share it around and it always tastes different when he licks it out of Jonesy’s mouth instead of between Katy’s legs, and what it was like that time last week when they were sneaking around in Katy’s room and Jonesy got too loud and Reilly’d had to kiss him and kiss him to catch all those sounds so Wayne wouldn’t hear them and Katy had curled forward and bit him on the shoulder to keep herself quiet, same shoulder that Jonesy had dug his thumb into last night, when he’d held Reilly down and taken care of him and whispered really nice things to him because sometimes when Katy gets mean it’s hot but other times Reilly needs some nice to balance out that spice and Jonesy _knows_ because he’s Reilly’s best buddy and what’s a little sweet talk between friends? 

 

If they’d been at Katy’s house last night, probably Jonesy would have had to kiss him to keep him quiet while he’d held him down, just bent over and Spidermaned that shit, and that’s the thought that takes Reilly right over the edge and he comes so hard he almost loses his balance. 

 

He recovers enough to actually get clean like he meant to do in the first place and he’s just finishing up with his hair when the curtain pulls back and Jonesy climbs right into the shower next to him. 

 

“Late night, late start buddy.” 

 

“Sharing is caring, buddy.”

 

“Ferda.”

 

“Ferda, buddy.” 

 

Reilly passes over the shampoo and Jonesy slaps him on the ass when he slides by to get out. 

 

Fuck he’s so fucking lucky. Everyone deserves a top shelf friend like Jonesy.

 

** III **

 

The thing is. See the thing is. The thing _is_ Jonesy never really thought that Katy would pick between them. He didn’t think she’d keep fucking around with both them forever but. They’ve always been a package deal and he thought that when Katy got tired and moved on it wouldn’t be to _only one of them at a time_. 

 

And okay so when it came down to it he’d wanted Katy to pick him, he likes Katy and he _really_ likes getting laid so it was a no brainer but. 

 

She didn’t pick him, she picked Reilly and it fucking stung, it sucked so bad, and he just wanted to be in Reilly’s jeep going off to buy Katy-Kat some fucking sour candies at the dollar store, but instead he was alone on his bike like a real loser.

 

Also like. He can’t stop picturing them together? He knows exactly how it looks, knows the sounds they both make, knows how sloppy Reilly kisses when he’s balls deep, the filthy shit Katy says when she gets close, how Reilly gets flushed everywhere and how wild he goes when someone bites him on the collarbone. Fuck, last year he’d had this huge hickey from where Jonesy bit down once staying quiet and every time someone chirped him about in the locker room he’d blushed so nice it had been worth it even though Katy had refused to fuck them for a week because she was mad at Reilly for coming so fast and mad at Jonesy for biting him and making it happen. 

 

He just. He misses them. 

 

He misses _Reilly_. 

 

Until now he couldn’t have even imagined that Reilly would ever pick a girl over _him_. They’re a set, a pair, half the people he knows never even bothered to figure out who was who because they were always together. And yeah, Jonesy will pick getting down and dirty with a girl over pretty much everything else in his life and he’s got a long list of people who will back that up thank you very much, but the thing is. 

 

The thing is, he knows now that he’d pick Reilly over any girl, any _person_ , any time. And that’s. Well that’s just what being a beauty friend is all about, right?.

 

 

** IV **

 

 

After Katy dumps him, well after they _mutually_ decide to not sleep together anymore, fuck, Reilly is actually relieved. Big city slams for days boys! Wheel snipe _celly_ boys! And even better than that, _Jonesy_ is _back_ , boys! 

 

It’s good for awhile, looots of action, dimes for days, ferda. But the Big City Slams, they aren’t so much into the two-on-one play and Reilly is really starting to miss having his D-partner on sides. He felt like that when he was with Katy, and he thought it was because he was used to Jonesy being there so of fucking course he was gonna miss him being there, but. He misses Jonesy being there _even when he’s never been there before_. 

 

And well. He’s not a cock looker thats for damn sure but he’s seen Jonesy’s cock, like, a lot. Soft in the locker room and the showers duh, he’s seen everyone’s cock like that you can’t fucking avoid it, but he’s seen it hard too, and he’s touched it a couple times and now he’s thinking about it pretty much every time he’s with a girl _and_ he’s thinking about it when he’s by himself playing one armed couch hockey in the dark. Jonesy’s got a _really_ pretty cock right? Pink and thick and always so wet at the tip, _goddamn_. He kind of always thought Katy would talk him into touching it eventually—on purpose instead of just the accidental brushes that happened sometimes—or maybe even sucking it one day and now that that door is slammed shut and bolted he’s starting to think that maybe he’d been counting on it, that maybe he’s been waiting for the excuse and now that he isn’t going to get it, he’s practically gagging for it, like some kind of hard up virgin.

 

It’s probably just…a buddies thing though. They spent time apart and now he just wants to spend all the time he can with Jonesy and they’re both stressed out with the team and it’s probably normal and not a gay thing. 

 

He does the only thing he can think to do and waits until Jonesy goes off with Dax one day to find this really foul protein smoothie shit that they both love, and he corners Ron in the gym. Just to check. 

 

“I need to talk to you about something.” 

 

“Is it your hair? Because I have thoughts and those thoughts are: the flow should go.” 

 

“What? No, not my—Whats wrong with my hair, The flow is always in, what are you talking about?”

 

“Never mind. Conversation for another day. What’s up?”

 

“well. Like. You know how like. Everyone kind of wants to fuck their buddies sometimes?” 

 

Ron stares him down and doesn’t blink. 

 

“They don’t but continue.” 

 

“Did you and Dax ever, you know, hook up with girls together? Before you were just hooking up with each other.” 

 

“Dude, no. Butts not box, since puberty.” 

 

“Oh. Well. Okay. So. How did you know you wanted to bang just Daxxy forever, then? I mean, I know everyone thinks about locking it down with their best bro sometimes-“

 

“They don’t but continue.”

 

Reilly takes a deep breath and just spits out. “I think I wanna just bang Jonesy, no girls, and maybe forever.”

 

“Reilly. Are you here asking me to be your gay guide?” 

 

“Um. Maybe? Just tell me if I’m gay or if this is a normal buds thing?”

 

Ron sighs. “You aren’t gay, but you’re definitely gay for Jonesy, it’s not a normal buddies thing, and I don’t have time to further mentor you I have a wedding to plan.” 

 

“Oh. Okay? That’s. Thanks? I think? But, like. Are you sure it's not a buddies thing? Because we've hooked up before, with Katy, and that was just buds even though we kissed sometimes? So I don't know."

 

"Jesus. I can't help you." 

 

** V **

 

“Those city are girls are _crazy_ , your hair looks really good like that buddy.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Reilly reaches up and touches the ends of it and he might be blushing a little but it could also just be the dim light. 

 

“Fuck yeah.” 

 

“Well your killing that rumpled cash look buddy.”

 

Jonesy can’t help but preen at the compliment. He does look fucking good and if no one but Reilly can appreciate that then it’s their fucking loss. Although. It is starting to fuck with is head a little bit, looking at Reilly and seeing this slick city fucker looking back at him. _And_ his arm is starting to get sore from holding his jacket at just the right jaunty angle. 

 

“Thanks buddy. But, maybe, do you think we should go back to our other look? Just, you know, for the laaadies?” 

 

“Dude, _yes_. You look good but like. Not really like _Jonesy_ you know? Besides, um, my arm? It’s getting tired holding my jacket like this.”

 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, buddy!” 

 

Reilly grins wide and kind of stupid and he’s Jonesy’s favorite person in the world, fuck. 

 

“C’mere, I’ll be your un-stylist.” 

 

He reaches out and reels Reilly in by his loose tie. Reilly stumbles a little and is suddenly much closer than Jonesy was expecting and it feels like getting boarded by The Natives, a little bit. 

 

Reilly blinks and says softly, “Hi.”

 

“Hi, buddy.” 

 

“So. Are you gonna un-style me? Re-Reilly me?” 

 

“Uh-huh. For the. For the ladies.” 

 

“Yeah. Yeah, ferda.” 

 

Jonesy straightens out Reilly’s shirt and does up the top buttons and tries not to think of all the times he’s had his lips at just that exact dip on Reilly’s throat, and tightens the tie. 

 

“One last thing.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

They’re whispering now and it feels like the rest of the reception is really far away. 

 

Jonesy reaches up and tugs the hair ties loose, runs his fingers through Reilly’s flow to restore it and tries to ignore the way that Reilly shivers under his touch. It would be so easy to fist his hand in it like he’s done before and pull him in, but. But they don’t do that anymore, haven’t in a while and with no girl around to bridge that gap he thinks they maybe shouldn't do it, probably. 

 

It’s just been a long time since either of them got their dicks wet and the dry spells are getting to them, obviously. 

 

He lets his arm fall back to his own side and steps back, Reilly opens his eyes real slow and Jonesy can’t even remember when he closed them. 

 

“There you go buddy. Back to normal.”

 

“No style-y all Reilly?”

 

“One hundred percent registered beautician, that’s you now, bro.” 

 

“Your turn?” 

 

“Um. Yeah. Yeah my turn.” 

 

Just then the doors swing back open and Wayne walks in with the rest of the fucking hicks looking like he just bashed a bunch of heads together and while Reilly’s distracted Jonesy goes ahead and fixes himself back up quick. 

 

He just needs to get laid, that’s all. They both do. 

 

Separately.

 

 

** I **

 

“We won a boat buddy!!”

 

“A ship buddy!”

 

“A top of the line Great Lakes schooner buddy!” 

 

“We fucking did it!” 

 

“ _We_ did it!” 

 

“We did it! And the gir- _Women_.” 

 

“Yeah. Yeah they did most of it.” 

 

“But we helped buddy!”

 

“Oh we _more_ than helped buddy!” 

 

The happiness fizzing inside him gets to be too much and Reilly has to reach out and shake Jonesy a little bit while they walk through the empty parking lot. Jonesy grapples back, and takes off running. So of course Reilly has no choice but to chase him the rest of the way back to the jeep and then shove him against the bumper, hard and keep him there. 

 

No other choice. It’s the adrenaline probably, nothing to do with the way that he wants to make out with him and probably no one else for the rest of his life. 

 

Jonesy looks at him, still smiling and breathless. “We should go out somewhere. Could get all the ass we want tonight I bet, just fighting ‘em off with all our new brooms! Could get anyone you want tonight you fucking boat winning beauty.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” 

 

something in him is building that isn’t just the adrenaline or the happiness. 

 

“Yeah, buddy.” 

 

“Okay then I want you.” 

 

Jonesy freezes. “Huh?” 

 

Reilly’s hands are sweaty and Jonesy is still holding on to his tie and there’s no turning back now. 

 

“If I can get anyone I want, I don’t want some big city slam or some out of town snipe, I just want you. Buddy.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

That’s all he says and the crest of wild happiness Reilly was feeling is slowly sinking away. He was wrong, probably. Or. He’d been right when he thought that it was just a friends thing. It feels worse than losing every game, worse than the time Katy dumped them for _Stewart_ , worse than when he’d had Katy but _no Jonesy for weeks_. 

 

He steps back. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. I’ll go.” 

 

“No!” 

 

Jonesy reaches out and grabs him by the coat. 

 

“No?” 

 

“No.” 

 

And then he’s being yanked forward and Jonesy is grabbing his face and pulling it close and— 

 

_Oh_. 

 

It’s been so long and it feels so good and Reilly doesn't even care that they're in the middle of a parking lot in a town that isn’t theirs and anyone could see them at any moment. This, _this_ is what he’s been waiting for, just as much as he’s been waiting for that ship. 

 

He has to come up for air, but he doesn’t go very far, slides his hands around Jonesy’s waist under the suit jacket and leans back enough to meet his eyes. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Jonesy reaches up and brushes his hair back off his face, tugs on the ends a little. He’s smiling like he’s never going to stop. Reilly knows the feeling. 

 

“ _Fuck_ yeah, buddy.” 


End file.
